The Island
by The Night was Moist
Summary: She went there on a quest to find evidence of the incredible. What she discovered there astonished her...and left her horrified beyond her darkest nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story is strongly inspired by the works of H.P. Lovecraft. Most of the concepts and characters are his...though the humans are mine. Thank you to Bucue for betaing.

 **The Island**

I stood on the shore and stared at the island, wondering if I was crazy, stupid, desperate or all three. I was taking a risk by staying. I wasn't on vacation and I had no idea when there'd be another ship out of here. The war was over and my editor at the Post expected me back. When the _USS Mercy_ docked in the Philippines for its last mission, to safely evacuate Allied POWs, I called Henry and begged him to let me head up to Japan to cover the beginning of the occupation.

Henry wasn't enthused. He said that Japan was no place for a dame, and if I still wanted to be collecting paychecks I'd be getting on the next ship out of there and back to New York as soon as possible. I tried to argue with him. Japan wasn't exactly a woman's paradise but I knew I would've been able to make it work. But he was unmoved. The man was a decent boss but he sure could be a paternalistic ass.

Sometimes I wondered what my future was in this business. With the war over, they weren't going to need war correspondents like they used to, especially not female ones. My work was good - no, great - and I knew I could compete with any man on merit. But I had no illusions. I'd had to push extra hard to get where I was, using every means at my disposal.

Even getting on that hospital ship hadn't been easy. I basically locked myself in the bathroom right before the ship disembarked and waited there for a half hour. I was lucky the captain didn't throw me overboard when he caught me later. That was nine months ago. Seeing all that sickness and suffering non-stop for all that time, pouring it all out on the written page...I think it took something out of me. Still, it was rewarding, and the assignments that awaited me when I returned to New York would be nowhere near so. I wasn't looking forward to it.

But before I got back to the Big Apple, fate had one final destination in store for me...a small island amid the thousands of islands dotting the entire Pacific: Tongra. The military transport I'd caught a ride on stopped there for a few days to take on fuel and supplies for the rest of the journey to San Francisco.

Tongra was literally an island paradise. The beach was a brilliant white, and flush jungle trees covered most of the island. But as naval bases went, Tongra was basically a hole in the wall. It used to be a Japanese base of sorts, but they abandoned it even before our navy got there. I guess they didn't think it was worth holding. Nonetheless, the Allies deemed it could serve as a strategic supply depot for the island hopping campaign. With the war over, and most of our ships heading back stateside, bases like these would eventually be decommissioned and abandoned across the Pacific.

However, at the moment, I was less interested in Tongra and more interested in the island beside it, the one I happened to be looking at. The natives called it Tesok. It was really a micro-sized island, perhaps a few square miles in area. It was fairly distinctive in that there was a large volcano in its centre – or at least an extinct volcano. It was actually more like a plateau, because much of its cone was sheared off and it was completely flat on top with no opening to lead to its inner depths. The guys at the base told me that Tesok was deserted and the natives never went there. Apparently some of them had gone on a scouting trip over a year back, but nobody had seen anything out of the ordinary.

If the story I heard the night before had any truth to it, maybe I'd have better luck.

I was talking with some soldiers in the mess hall. One of the advantages of being a blue-eyed brunette in a male-dominated military was that it was easy to sniff out some good stories. And that's what the boys were doing...feeding me stories, telling me what life had been like on the base. With the war over, most of them would be going home soon. There was a sense of melancholy permeating the air, along with a sense of hope and relief.

Frank Hawkins, a profane but gregarious Texan who served as one of the base's guards, was regaling us with a tale about encountering a wild boar while off duty.

"So here I am running through the fucking jungle away from this thing. All I need to do is find a fucking tree to climb. But there was only these damn palm trees. Have you tried climbing a palm tree? There's like no fucking branches."

Everyone laughed at that. Hawkins was a big, 6'5'' gruff looking fellow and the image of him running around like a scared kitten looking for a tree to climb was quite a mental picture.

"So what'd you end up doing?" a dark fellow named Lucius asked.

Hawkins shrugged. "The only thing I could do. I turned around and made my stand like a man. Grabbed the biggest stick I could find...which turned out to be this fucking long." He held out a finger on each hand. "And here I am thinking, 'My fucking dick is bigger than that'."

The entire table roared.

Hawkins shrugged again. "Anyway, I tossed the damn stick, and when that thing came up to me, I just took a run at it. Pretty soon, I was doing the chasing, and it was the one trying to find a fucking tree."

The table roared once again and I just chuckled and shook my head. Truth or tall tale, the man could spin a good yarn.

But after the laughter died down, a quiet voice spoke up from the end of the table.

"I've seen somethin' around here. And it definitely wasn't no pig."

"What was it, Jack?" Lucius asked.

Jack Merrill, a pencil-thin older man from Atmore, Alabama, looked up from his cola. "It was something mighty queer. At first I wasn't goin' to say nothin'. I thought you'd think I was drinkin' some of that swill they got in the village." He gave a short laugh, though no humor was reflected in his eyes. "But since we've had a good chuckle at the expense of Mr. Hawkins, maybe it's my turn."

Hearing Merrill's somber tone, the table completely quieted and leaned in for his story.

"I was down by the beach, doin' some fishin'. You know me, as per usual. I was in my boat, just about fifty yards from shore, tryin' to catch the big one before we head out of here." He shook his head. "It was all calm-like and the sunset was in full swing. I'd just cast a last line out there when I saw somethin'...a dark somethin' coming from the direction of the island."

"What'd you see?" Lucius asked.

"Somethin' in the sky. At first I thought it was some kind of bird - a large, funny shaped bird. But as the thing got closer and closer, I realized I was wrong."

"Well, what was it?" a heavyset man by the name of Mike inquired.

"I don't know. Whatever was left of that sun was going down quick, and I couldn't tell you its exact details. The only thing I could be sure of was its shape...like the fact that it had wings. But I'll tell you what it wasn't. It wasn't no bird, and it wasn't no beast, at least not one to be found on this here earth. But I wouldn't call it a man, either. No sir, not by a long shot. It had arms and legs like a man, and a man-shaped head and body of some sort. But in no way was that thing a man."

Merrill paused before continuing. "When it got to me, it stopped, about 30 or 40 yards in the air. It just stood there in the sky for a minute or so, its wings flapping...just hovering there, looking down on me, like it was judging me from on high. And for that minute, I didn't breathe. Oh Lord, not one breath."

"And then what happened?" Lucius urged.

Merrill shrugged. "Nothin'. Nothin' happened. As quickly as it came, suddenly it left, turning around and headin' back to that island. Somewhere around there it disappeared...or at least I think it did. I was too busy getting the hell out of there to know for sure."

"But what the fuck was it?" Hawkins demanded.

"Like I said, I don't know." Merrill shrugged. "I know what you might expect me to say, a God fearing man like myself. A devil. A demon. Well, those are the easy answers, even if it had no horns that I could see. But I say it doesn't matter. All that matters is that the Lord let that thing come within a stone's throw of me and let me live. And if I go to my grave not knowin' what it was, and not knowin' what its face looked like, I'll be goin' a happy man, of that you can be sure."

Once again, he paused and looked at each of us in turn. "And if there's another thing I know, it's that when our ship finally sails out of here, I won't be lookin' back. No sir, not for one second...that I promise you."

I wasn't sure if the guys at that table really bought it. But even if they did think it was a bunch of malarkey, they didn't say anything. I got the sense that Merrill was a guy who they all respected and who wasn't normally given to wild flights of fancy. But there was one thing in particular that supported Merrill's story somewhat.

I was talking to Lucius afterwards. According to him, Merrill usually went fishing on almost a daily basis, without fail. That's how much he loved it. But Lucius confirmed that he hadn't seen Merrill go for the past week, and only now did Lucius know why. I thought, whether or not Merrill actually saw that creature, it was safe to say that he certainly believed he had.

But there was another reason why I gave Merrill's story some credence. In recent years, it'd become clear that the world was a much more complicated place than people had believed. And by that, I didn't mean just this war and the build-up to it. I meant recent discoveries of unparalleled magnitude that revealed secret chapters in human - and nonhuman - history...

Unexplained tales of entire populations being set upon by strange beings and other unnatural phenomena.

Mysterious coastal towns in New England, Florida and Portugal inhabited by human hybrids whose ancestors had mated with an intelligent species from the depths of Earth's oceans.

Fossils and artifacts found in primeval rocks across the world, ancient vestiges of an age before even the dinosaurs.

A prehistoric city discovered deep within the darkest reaches of Antarctica, a city that no humans could possibly have built.

These revelations - and others - had been downplayed and buried under the events that had shaken the world throughout the last fifteen years: the suffering of the Great Depression, the rise of authoritarianism and aggression in Europe and Asia, and finally the breakout of the greatest war humanity has ever known. But now I believed that the world would finally wake up to the fact that we were not and never had been alone on this planet. It would be hard to hide it anymore, when all these incredible findings could now be photographed and put on paper and film for the entire world to see.

Of course, if there was one person who refused to wake up, it was Henry, my editor. I'd heard of some of these phenomena through my work as a reporter, driven onward by my interest in the paranormal and the unexplained. I'd begged Henry to let me pursue some leads I'd dug up. But no, he wouldn't have any of it. According to him, if I wanted to waste my time on fantastical wild goose chases, I could do it without getting paid by the New York Daily News.

But now I finally had my chance. And I was going to take it.

The island was about two miles out. I had to get going. I'd wasted too much time this morning getting everything all ready. It was already past noon. By the time I got there, I'd have maybe a few hours of exploring before I had to return. I wasn't eager to row my boat back in pitch black. It was early October, and in this part of the world the sun went completely down well before 6:00 pm.

Thinking it'd be a good idea to have a drink before I got going, I opened my backpack, got out my canteen and took a sip. I was careful to make it only a small one to conserve it. It was extremely doubtful there'd be any drinkable water on the island. Or food. That's why I'd managed to wrangle a few bottles of water along with some salami, cheese and bread from the kitchens in the mess hall. All they cost me was the promise to get in touch with Corporal Housley when I got home. Good thing I had too much sense to give him my real phone number.

Commander Maddox, the head of the base, had been reluctant about letting me use a boat. It wasn't so much he didn't trust me but he was concerned about a "little lady" like myself being able to row all that way and back. I might've felt insulted but he was a lovely older man who had a fatherly air about him so it was difficult to feel too aggrieved. He asked if I wanted to be escorted to the island on one of the motorboats, but I graciously declined. I felt that if I was going to find something, I was going to find it by myself. And in the crazy event that there _was_ something out there - something not exactly human - I had a nagging suspicion that the military wouldn't react too favorably to it. So I didn't tell anyone what I was actually going there for. As far as they were concerned, I was just gathering info for a story on the history and geography of the South Pacific islands.

Despite his misgivings, Maddox ultimately agreed that I could use any of the boats that were just lying on here the beach. Apparently the base wasn't too worried about theft by the natives. Or maybe with all the other vast costs of this war, a few two-man dinghies were simply not worth worrying about. The boat I'd chosen appeared to be in the best condition of all of them. It looked okay, but there was no way to be sure until I got out into the water and tested it in action. The last thing I needed was for it to spring a leak on the way there. The island was quite a ways out and I had no illusions about my swimming ability.

Shaking my head, I took one last sip and placed my canteen back into my backpack. And then, grasping hold of the front of the boat, I slowly dragged it across the sand and into the waiting water.

Crazy, stupid, or desperate, I was on my way.

 **To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I felt strangely vulnerable as I slowly approached the island. I had to row facing the opposite direction to where I was going. I could see Tongra gradually get smaller in the distance, but I couldn't see my destination unless I made the effort to twist my body around.

It was slow going. I wasn't sure if the current was against me, but it wasn't helping me. I was as out of shape as I'd feared I was. Spending months on a hospital ship in the middle of a war doesn't do much for your fitness level.

What made it worse was that this was the easy part. I'd have to do it all again in only a few more hours. I wasn't equipped to stay the night, unless I wanted to just sleep out in the open, which I wasn't keen on doing. Who knew what kind of nasty bugs and snakes were on that island? Then again, worrying about unpleasant creatures was somewhat ironic considering why I was out there.

My feeling of unease increased the closer I got to the island. My watch said I'd been out here about an hour already, and I looked at least two-thirds of the way there. It'd been difficult for me to get into a good rowing rhythm. I kept having these stupid visions in my head of a dark figure flying towards me from behind my back. Every once in a while I kept stopping and looking behind me, telling myself it was only so I could make sure my boat wasn't going wayward.

But despite the fact that it took longer than it should have, and my arms felt like stretched rubber, I finally arrived at the island. My legs felt gloriously relieved in the soothing water when I climbed out of my modest aluminum craft. After dragging it onto the sandy beach, I took out my backpack and turned the boat upside down in case it rained. I prayed it wouldn't.

For a few moments, I just stood there and looked around. Compared to Tongra, the flora was sparse. While the big island had jungles filled with high roaming trees of a variety of species, Tesok was primarily covered with grasses and short bushes. I supposed there wasn't enough fresh water to sustain much else. A coat of light green covered most of the area, even all the way up the cone of the volcano. With the low vegetation, I had a full view of everything that wasn't obscured by the volcano. Despite the fact that the island was relatively barren, it was extraordinarily beautiful.

And unfortunately, I had to admit, there didn't appear to be much of anything here. But I could've come to that same conclusion from the shores of Tongra. I'd decided to check it out anyway, and that's why I was here. My plan was to head to the top of that massive piece of rock and get a better view of the surrounding area.

It was nearly 1:20 pm. It'd taken me far too long to get here. I estimated I had just over two hours before I had to leave again, and even that was pushing it. It would be dark by the time I got back and only if the current was cooperative.

I took a few swigs of much-needed water, but I wasn't hungry yet so I decided to get going. Slinging on my backpack, I got on my way, trudging my legs up the beach towards the center of the island.

About ten minutes into my hike, I realized it was really quiet. The only sound I could hear was my breathing and footsteps.

It wasn't long before the ground started growing at an angle and I began to ascend the cone. It should have been easygoing because it wasn't too steep. But instead it only confirmed how out of shape I was, as soon I was huffing and puffing away. My only saving grace when it came to my poor conditioning was that my high metabolism kept the pounds away.

It took me thirty minutes from when I started out, but eventually I got to the top without dying of a heart attack. It was worth it. The apex of the volcano was awe-inspiring. It was essentially a huge rocky plateau about 50 feet across in all directions. I felt like an insect on a dining room table. I knew that most volcanoes had a caldera, or recess at their tops, but this one was level and straight across. The caldera must have been filled in with some kind of sediment or lava many years ago. Or maybe the sides of the caldera had become eroded over time. To tell the truth, I had no idea. I was a journalist, not a volcanologist, and there weren't any volcanologists around to interview.

But in truth I was more enraptured by the beautiful scenery that surrounded me. I was maybe 400 yards above sea level and I could see everything for miles around, an endless sky over an endless ocean. I could also see Tongra and perhaps even the beach where I rowed from.

I couldn't pass up the chance to capture this wonder on film so I took out my good ol' Speed Graphic and snapped a few shots of the entire area. It was a shame that the vibrant greens and blues wouldn't show up on the black and white film.

I decided to walk around the top of the summit to see if there was anything else to be seen, though I was beginning to have my doubts. As awesome as it was, a part of me was disappointed there was nothing on the plateau but rocks, grass, a few bushes, and a beautiful view. And as I walked around, it was obvious that there was nothing out of the ordinary on the rest of the island, either. There wasn't one piece of architecture or unnatural disturbance in sight.

As I'd feared, I'd come up empty. I could examine every inch of this island and I knew I wouldn't find anything. Even if Merrill was telling the truth - a remote possibility at best - who the hell knew where the creature really went? Merrill said it flew back in the direction of the island, but that didn't mean it was actually on the island.

But I also realized that it didn't matter. It was a privilege just to be out here, to experience this monument to natural beauty. And I had seen one consolation prize, a beautiful little lagoon on the opposite side of the island from where I landed. It was like a little pond, filled with crystal clear water that was carved into the beach.

I decided I would head to the lagoon for a bit and then go back to my boat and return home. But before I did, I decided to take a few more shots of the scenery. If nothing else, I'd have a lot of reminders me of that time I endangered my job and my health on a hunt for what was likely just a flying fairy-tale.

With one last look at the scenery, I began to hike down the gently sloping hill. It proved to be much less challenging getting down than it was getting up. I felt sweaty from the hot humidity and all the exercise. My T-shirt was moist where it met my backpack. I was starting to think it would be nice to wash my sweat away with a little dip in the water, which was beginning to look really tempting just then. In fact, ever since I first set out to this region of the world, I'd longed to take a dip in the ocean, but couldn't get enough privacy for it. There was definitely no privacy on Tongra.

Soon, I arrived at the lagoon and I smiled when I noticed the silhouettes of little fishes swimming around in the shallows. Kneeling down, I leaned over the edge of the water and tested it with my fingers. It was pleasantly cool. Taking off my hat, peeling off my shirt, and shucking off pants, I hung them on some bushes. My shoes soon followed, as did the watch on my wrist. For some reason I hesitated a bit at my bra and panties, but shook my head and chuckled before taking them off as well. The closest would-be peeping toms were miles away on another island.

Naked, I slowly submerged myself in the water, and I thought back to Seneca where we went out to the local swimming hole every day during the summer. To me, this was paradise, as much as for the memories as for the water. I thought of my older sister Janey and how she and I always went together. I wished she could be here right now.

After a few half-hearted attempts at the breast stroke, I decided to just tread water. Dunking my head numerous times, I let the clear liquid consume me entirely. The water was like a healing salve, washing away all that death and destruction that had been haunting me, cleansing me of the memories of those maimed and burned soldiers that had been on that hospital ship. Skipping the next ship home, the grief I'd inevitably get from my boss when I returned, the difficult ride to this island, all that walking and the exploring – it was all worth it just for this.

For my encore, I let myself float on my back, looking up at the bright blue sky. After a few minutes of that, I decided it was time to get going.

Slowly, I emerged from the water and ran my hands over my body and hair, trying to whisk the excess water off since I didn't have a towel. While I let myself dry off in the sun, I decided to snap a few shots of the shoreline. I'd picked up some film in Butuan so it wasn't like I had to conserve any.

Taking a single shot of the vast panoramic sea, I thought of how far away I was from home. Not just thousands of leagues across this ocean but, in addition to that, the breadth of an entire continent. I wondered about people who liked to sail for a living and whether…

Suddenly, I heard a sound that woke me from my reverie. It was coming from behind me.

My breath caught in my throat as I realized what it was.

It was the sound of giant beating wings.

I turned around.

"Oh my God."

 **To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Jack Merrill described his encounter, he said he couldn't see the being's exact features. If he had, I wonder if he would've spoken up at all. If he had, maybe he would've hid his meeting in the deep recesses of his mind and try to rationalize to himself that it was merely a waking dream.

It wasn't the large striated wings that were the most disconcerting. I was expecting those due to Merrill's tale. Neither was I disturbed overly much by his body, despite the fact that he looked immensely powerful. Over seven feet of solid muscle. True, only a select few of the humans who exist on this planet could hope to achieve such physical perfection, but it didn't change the fact that his figure looked more or less human. In contrast, the color of his skin was not human, but neither was it entirely objectionable, being a pale green...the hue of celadon.

But really, what was incredible was his face, more specifically the fleshy protuberances projecting from right below his eyes, covering the area where a nose and mouth should have been. They looked like shortened tentacles. They were thin and narrow, and they were many - ten, twenty, or more - all in a bunch so I couldn't tell their exact number.

And then there was his eyes. They were not human eyes. They were a deep yellow. They had no pupils and were narrow in shape rather than round. The structure of his eyes screamed malevolence, whether or not malevolence was intended.

Was it?

My heart beating through my chest, I held up my hands, one of them still holding my camera. "I mean you no harm. Please."

He gave no response, other than to look me up and down, as though he was closely examining me. With a gasp, I remembered my naked state. With my clothes too far away for me to reach, I quickly covered my privates as much as I could.

I began to inch back. I felt terrified, embarrassed, and absurd all at once. But most of all, terrified. I kept my eyes on him as he remained hovering in the air, looking at me impassively.

"What are you?" I demanded. "Are you from another world? Are there others like you?"

He gave no reply.

"Are you even intelligent?"

Still nothing.

Becoming exasperated, I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, are you just going to stand there and look at me all day?"

This time, I received my answer. He landed on the ground and began to walk towards me.

"Oh fuck."

As he approached, my mind raced. I didn't know what to do. Most people would stumble back. Run. But something told me not to do it, that I'd have no chance even if I tried. My body shook from head to toe as I resisted the urge to flee. I somehow managed to stand my ground as he walked inexorably towards me.

He stopped a few inches away, a living monolith that towered over my five foot six frame.

I stayed frozen as he put his giant, clawed hand on my cheek and ran it down my face. Grasping hold of my chin, he turned my face from side to side, examining me like I was some kind of lab specimen. His touch felt like warm, hard leather on my skin.

I held my breath, as he reached over my shoulder and grasped a bunch of my wet hair. He began to roll the individual strands between his fingers, his yellow eyes staring intently as though they'd never seen such a thing. I exhaled softly as he then let go of my hair, letting it fall over my shoulder.

But he wasn't done. Because then he went to my breasts. I was doing my best to cover them up with my left arm, but I couldn't prevent him from probing the supple portions that remained uncovered. And even though he soon stopped, I had no respite, for his hand began to travel down further, his fingers gliding from my breastbone, to my tummy, to my...

"Oh please, please don't..." I whispered.

But to my surprise - and relief – he merely grasped the camera I forgot I was still holding. He took it from me as easily as taking candy from a baby. It looked like a toy in his massive hand as he held it up to examine it. I took advantage of his preoccupation with it and began to back away.

Once again, a part of me wanted to run. But where would I go? The boat? It was hundreds of yards away. Nonetheless I decided to give myself some space. So I began to slowly walk backwards. He briefly glanced at me and went back to examining the camera, now grasping it in both hands as he peered into the viewfinder. Had he seen what I'd been doing with it? Did he actually understand how it worked?

Shaking my head, I went over to my clothes and quickly pulled on my shirt and panties, followed by my pants. I decided to skip my bra. I wanted to get covered up as quickly as possible. But as I did so, I made sure to keep one eye on him. Thankfully, he hadn't made any movement towards me. But now he was doing something that gave me the willies. He'd forgotten the camera and was tilting his head to one side and then the other, staring at me.

I figured the best thing to do was pretend I wasn't as scared as I looked. I needed to take control of the situation. Take control of my fear.

"Yeah, they're called clothes. Hate to break it to you, but I don't normally walk around in my birthday suit...you know, like yourself."

Once again, he made no sound. Not a single utterance.

"You know, mother always warned me about the quiet ones, but this takes the cake." I shook my head. Maybe he couldn't talk. Maybe he wasn't much more than an animal of some sort. Like an ape.

But he wasn't acting like an animal. Or an ape. He wasn't wandering around erratically. He wasn't making grunting noises. Everything he did, from the way he looked at me, to the way he stood there, to the way he examined my camera, seemed to indicate intelligence. Purpose.

Swallowing, I took a deep breath and steeled myself. Unsure if I was completely sane, I slowly began to walk up to him, though it was with immense dread that I did so. For all I knew he would violently react and tear my head off or something.

But I was sick of just standing there, waiting for something to happen.

"Here." I held up an expectant hand to my camera, which was still grasped in his oversized paw. "You've got to be careful with that. It's my livelihood."

Unknowable eyes just stared at me for a long moment, and then he slowly placed the device into my hand.

"Thanks," I replied as I set up the camera. "You have any idea what this does?" I aimed it in the general direction of the ocean and took a shot. "See? It just takes a picture so I can capture it forever. I even heard they have some that do color now. But I'm not getting my hands on one of those with my salary."

He merely continued looking at me in silence, and I still wondered if this was all just a prelude to him tearing my head off. I didn't want to test that theory. I'd considered pointing the camera at him, because what photojournalist wouldn't want to get a picture of a being like this? It would make my blasted career. But the last thing I wanted was for him to see this thing pointed at him and think he was being attacked the moment the camera whirred. So I decided to gain his trust some more.

"Look," I said, stomping off to my backpack, still lying there by the shore of the lagoon. I fished through it and brought out my journal. I looked back at him and saw that he was just gazing at me like before. It was really unnerving.

Hesitating for a moment, I waved him over with my arm. "Come on," I urged, sitting down on the sand beside my pack. "Come on," I said again, talking to him like he was an uncooperative puppy.

But my breath caught in my throat as he slowly began to move forward. This wasn't a puppy walking towards me, but a wild wolf, who - for all I knew - was coming for its meal.

He towered above me as I sat there cross-legged. I turned around slightly to face the ocean and patted the ground beside me. "Come on, have a seat," I said. For a moment, he did nothing except look at me and then, suddenly, his wings vanished.

"Holy shit."

It's like they just retracted at lightning speed into his back. I didn't know how that could be possible. He then sat down beside me, cross-legged like I was. Surreptitiously, I leaned over and checked out his back. But I didn't see any sign of the wings at all, not any holes or marks - just seamless, light green skin. And now that he was this near to me, I decided to take a closer look at the rest of him.

Upon closer inspection I decided that his form was indeed, more or less, that of a male. And that's why I'd naturally thought of him as such. He had large and flat pectoral muscles, with four rows of clearly delineated abs. His arms and legs were likewise laced with cords of muscle. There was not an ounce of fat anywhere on him.

There was one obvious thing that contradicted his maleness, however, and that was his distinct lack of any reproductive organs. His nether region was completely smooth and barren of anything you could call genitals. But still, I decided that as far as his species was concerned, he was closer to the concept of a male than a female.

But then I had an interesting notion. I was thinking that if his wings could retract, maybe a certain other body part could retract too, and maybe...

Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, I looked up from where I was staring and saw him staring right back at me. I felt my face go red. "Sorry, just taking a look. You can't blame a girl for being curious, can you? Besides, you saw _me_ naked."

Wanting to change the subject, I held out my hand to him. "Uh, here. This is how we properly greet people on this planet. We don't paw at them without their permission. That's considered rude, by the way. And quite possibly illegal." I looked pointedly at my open hand and shook it up and down. "This is how you do it." There was an awkward pause as his alien eyes looked at it in silence. Maybe he just didn't understand what he was supposed to do, and I wouldn't entirely blame him.

I considered abandoning the attempt, but then he finally brought his formidable hand to mine. I smiled. "Yes, that's it!" I somehow wrapped my hand around his oversized fingers and gave him a firm shake. Thankfully he didn't squeeze too hard. Something told me he could break my hand in at least ten places if he really wanted to.

"Good job!" I said, smiling. I let go of his hand and placed my other hand on my chest. "I'm Emma, by the way." I patted my chest with my palm. "That's my name. Emma. Emma Hoffman." For some reason, I hoped that saying my name would elicit some sort of verbal response, but once again, his only response was to gaze at me, his tentacles not even fluttering slightly.

I shrugged. "Well, names are overrated anyway. But look..." I dug into my bag, "...this is what I wanted to show you." I brought out my book and placed it in front of him. "You know what this is? It's a journal. A writing journal. It's where I put down all my stories and thoughts and ideas. Well, most of them, anyway. Every self-respecting writer has one of these."

I opened it up to the front inside cover where there was a little velvet pocket. "But these are what I wanted to show you," I continued, reaching into the pocket, "they're my photos, the ones that mean the most to me. But look, this is how it works..."

I picked up my camera, aimed it at the ocean, and took a quick picture. Then I grabbed one of the photographs from my journal and held it up in the air. "See? You take a picture, and after some processing, you create one of these. It's pretty simple." I pointed at the camera. "That's what this does," I reiterated, picking up a few more pictures. "It makes these."

"Anyway, let me show you some of them." I held up a photo of my old farmhouse with my dog running around outside. "This is where I grew up, just outside of Seneca, New York. My folks ran a dairy farm." I pointed at the photo as he looked on dutifully. "That's Baka. Don't ask what kind of name that is. Janey - my sister - came up with it." I pointed again at the image. "Yeah, that's a dog. You've probably never seen one. Pretty big mutt. He'd get really enthusiastic and jump up on you, practically knock you over if you weren't careful. But he was the best mutt you could ever have."

I flipped another photo on top. It was of our family, taken inside our farmhouse. We were all smiling in our living room. I remembered that one of our neighbors, Tom Coven, had taken the picture. "And this is my family...with Baka, of course. And there's Mom, Dad, and Janey." I pointed to each of them in turn, and then pointed at the little girl on the right. "And that's me. Understand?" I pointed at myself. "That was me when I was smaller. See? Here..."

I flipped another photo on top. "This is me." I pointed at myself. "Me with Janey. Got it?" I had no idea if he "got it" at all, but I looked more closely at the picture anyway. Both of us were horsing around in the hallway. Her arm was around my shoulders. "It was taken the day before she left for college. Mom and Dad wanted us to have what they couldn't. And they wanted us to be more than housewives or secretaries. Janey went first, and a couple years later, it was my turn." I sighed. "But I always miss how it was before that. Everything was so much simpler back then. And happier."

I looked at him. "Hey, do you have a family somewhere?"

He merely tilted his head in response.

I let out a deep breath. "Janey died a few years back. Cervical cancer...same as Mom. And Dad, well...you know...heart attack. And that's that. Baka passed before all of them. I have some cousins somewhere in California, but it was really just us. And now...just me."

I shrugged as I flipped quickly through the photos. "These are just some...memories I wanted to keep with me when I went overseas. They do help sometimes." I laughed. "Except maybe this one." I pulled out another photo. "This is Ronald and I, taken a year ago at some photo booth on Staten Island. Technically, we're still together, but I think we're headed for splitsville."

We'd barely chatted or written to each other over the time I'd been away. And even before that, things had been rocky. He didn't want me going anywhere near the war. Heck, sometimes I got the sense that he didn't even approve of me being a journalist. He never admitted it, but he never seemed too enthused about what I did. If it was his choice, we'd probably be married by now and I'd be home painting the baby room instead of pursuing any sort of career. But that kind of life just wasn't for me.

I looked at my newfound companion and smiled. "You know, Ronald can be a real chatterbox sometimes. He just doesn't know when to shut up." I paused and looked at him. "Obviously he's nothing like you."

And at that particular moment, I had to admit it was fine by me.

I shook my head. "Anyway, before I forget." I grabbed my camera on the ground beside me and stood up. "I think you should understand by now that this won't harm you." I shrugged and muttered. "At least I hope so."

Taking careful aim, I went to snap my photo, perhaps the first photo of a live alien being ever taken on Earth. And that's what he must be, I'd decided. An alien, of some degree of intelligence.

At first I thought maybe he was from the ocean, maybe a species that had never been discovered. That would explain the squid-like visage. But why would he have wings? And retractable wings? Was that even possible? But then, if he was an alien, why would he be hanging around here with absolutely nothing on him. No clothes, no ship, no equipment of any sort. And no companions? Was he alone, or where there others like him somewhere?

So many questions, but no answers.

Oh well. "Pulitzer, here I come," I whispered, as I cocked the shutter and released it.

But when I put my camera down, I realized with a sinking feeling that I needed more than this. They would think this photo was a fake, that he was a guy in a suit, no matter how real it looked. I needed to find more evidence. But where? He was the only thing here. Maybe I could somehow get him to come back with me to Tongra, but I didn't think that would a good idea. Who knew how the base would react? Who knew what they would do to him?

No. That wouldn't be a good idea at all.

Deciding I needed a drink, I went to my bag and got out my canteen. I looked back at him. He was still sitting there, cross-legged. To tell the truth, he was still giving me the willies. He was staring only at me...like there was nothing else around.

"Uh...how're you holding up?" I asked, giving him a nervous smile and taking another drink. Then I turned around and looked idly at the ocean, my eyes sifting the waves for inspiration. I had to think this through. Maybe I just hadn't looked hard enough on the island. Maybe there was something I had missed. Or maybe I could just go back to my photos, point out my home again and then try to somehow get him to show me where _his_ home was. Or maybe…

I heard a sound. Footsteps on sand. Coming closer. Startled, I turned around to find his tentacled face right next to mine.

"What do you-?"

"Fathgn cntn gas'ha d'chasic'asi die wah."

I jumped. His voice was a loud, deep, unintelligible bass, like no language I'd ever heard. Like no sound I'd ever heard.

He reached out, a giant clawed hand enveloping my forehead.

"Unnnhhh..." I dropped my canteen and doubled over, clutching my head.

I was being assaulted by whispered words rushing into my mind, flowing into my consciousness, like a raging psychic river. They were words I couldn't comprehend, accompanied by images...sounds...ideas...concepts...most of which I couldn't begin to grasp.

All this...information was being absorbed into my mind at lightning speed, overwhelming my sense of individuality, my very sense of being. My connection to the outside world - to my own body - was completely shut off.

And then - after a time - my world ended.

And another began.

 **To be continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It is a warm world but barren. The sky...an endless blue. I do not know if I will ever get used to it. My _n'qalh_ exit the portal and gather around. We are overlooking a plain filled with nothing but rock.

I can sense the questions in my brethren's thoughts and I cannot help but share them. Is there even life here? Has this planet birthed anything of consequence?

In the end, none of it matters. All that matters is His will.

...

There is life here.

I watch with the others as the _Trach_ tells us of what we face. There are large-scale structures by the coast and more in outlying regions. Significant populations. Evidence of high technology. It is unlikely they are native to this sphere.

The _Trach_ then reveals the dead one's form. Its shape is strange...with symmetry unlike anything we have seen. More importantly, their minds are intractable. They are resistant to the _cthul'gna_.

Abominations.

...

I was on patrol when their attack came. It came from the sky, a pillar of sun that enveloped the _j'ndac_ entire. Many gone. My entire _n'qalh_...gone. Anxu and Kal'r...gone.

I ascend to the blackness to take their weapon apart piece by piece.

Fools. They will regret they did not kill me.

...

I descend into the wind. The earth rushes up to meet me. Their fire poses no threat, for my skin is transformed. Their beams hit me and deflect into the air. But there are...things on the earth awaiting me, living black weapons of shapeless mass. A makeshift limb reaches upwards and drags me down. I am pulled into a pool of moving darkness as they join together to destroy me. Acids secreted from viscous tendrils seek to dissolve my hardened form.

But I feel no fear. Fear is for lesser beings. My hide becomes filled with the _da'sec_. It streams through my skin, exploding outwards. The creatures dissipate. I stand alone, unchallenged. Raising my arm, I roar His name.

...

M'rah. I call to her as she flies between the clouds, trying to evade me. She wants me to look for her, and so I go to wherever she may be hiding.

She came to me when I lost them. She saw me on the battlefield and found me worthy. Further inland she glimpsed fresh water falling from high rocks. In the pool there, perhaps we will Join. For when united as one, we are strong.

...

These fools could do nothing to prevent us from entering their _ra'sosh_. Our skin evading light, we pass through with ease and run down a cavernous hallway. We know exactly where they are. Their pungent stench carries far. Indeed, it is a giant white hall where these ones lie, hovering around a projection of light. Cowards. They send their weapons to destroy us as they hide here in safety.

One of them begins to scream, its cylindrical body rotating back and forth, its thin arms gesticulating wildly. I nod to M'rah. They know we are here.

Good.

...

The _chokra's_ tail begins to quickly undulate. Its deep cries echo across the waters. It has found our prey. I, M'rah and the others must double our speed to keep pace. The great beast can detect vibrations from a thousand _jora_ away. When it reaches the shelf, it will descend to whatever depths are needed.

And we will follow. We will assault the deep places where the star-headed ones have fled. The enemy's terrestrial structures are destroyed. Their surface armies are routed. Now they seek refuge in the waters.

But there is no escape.

...

I look upon this world, and still it is barren. So many of us are gone. M'rah is gone. The star-headed ones are no threat. No. It is their black creations, their...shoggoth. They have separated from their masters. They have gained knowledge. Evolved. We destroy one after another, but they replicate so quickly.

It matters not. We will not yield this world.

We could have sterilized it long ago. But it was forbidden. The seeds this sphere has birthed must survive.

We need only cleanse it of all who defy us.

We will build His city. We will construct His temple.

And then He will come.

My Lord, my all, I swear...

WE WILL NOT YIELD.

I cried out as reality snapped back into focus. I found myself staring upwards at his alien face.

With a start, I quickly sat up and looked around. I was still on the beach by the lagoon. He was sitting right beside me, cross-legged, just staring at me, all calm and peaceful.

My eyes shifted away from him. Again, I drank in the familiar surroundings, clenching the sand beneath me with my fists, confirming to myself that it was real, that I was actually here.

I turned my eyes back to him, belatedly realizing that my head had been resting on his thigh. I would have felt embarrassed if I wasn't so shaken by what had just happened, what I'd just experienced.

His name was Val'kor.

And I experienced his memories. Just as I showed him fragments of my life through my photos, he showed me fragments of his life through his own way, the way of his species. Telepathy.

And even though I saw mere glimpses of his past, I innately knew his memories were of Earth. That place, that world, was Earth, only hundreds of millions of years ago...before the rise of humankind, before even the dinosaurs, in a time when life itself was just beginning to emerge.

He and his people came to our world from another universe. Upon arrival, they warred with an alien race that had already claimed our planet for its own.

This being beside me was one of extraordinary power. Who knew how ancient he truly was? Who knew the limits of his capabilities? He was beyond anything I could have imagined. I was in awe of him...and I feared him. The things I saw him do in his memories both enthralled and terrified me.

And there was something else that gave me pause. Throughout his recollections he kept thinking about this Lord, this...god of his. It was like he truly believed in it, that it was a literal, living god that he and his people worshiped, that drove their every thought and deed. And I couldn't help but wonder, could this deity have actually existed? The very possibility left me feeling...unsettled.

Yet nothing could stop me from wanting - no - _craving_ more. I was a reporter in pursuit of knowledge. And this was a deep, hidden knowledge from the early years of Earth's primordial past. True, we knew from ancient artifacts and fossils that advanced civilizations had once inhabited prehistoric Earth. However, the chance to see it all brought to life in his thoughts, to witness it in person...it was an opportunity I couldn't resist.

But the search for knowledge wasn't the only reason for my eagerness, though I had troubles admitting it to myself.

His presence in my mind was like a drug.

I went back to him and got upon my knees. Reaching down, I took his huge hand in mine. "Val'kor," I softly said, "d'awah xin. Jasha...jasha uek _."_

Yes, somehow I could effortlessly speak the words of his kind, as though I'd known those words all my life. In this short space of time, his language had become a part of me, like he'd telepathically imprinted it directly onto my mind.

He lifted his hand to my face. To my surprise, he tenderly brushed away a few wayward strands of hair. And then he put his hand on my forehead.

Reality shifted again as he did what I bid. He showed me the rest.

He showed me his memories of the war that continued.

The shoggoth threat was eventually brought to heel. But the star-headed ones arose once more as reinforcements from their galactic empire rained down from the celestial firmament.

And after them came another species from the deep reaches of space. They were an insectoid race of hideous intelligence, an ancient enemy of the star-headed ones. When this species arrived, it immediately joined the fray against both sides, wielding terrible bioweapons and organically grown combat vessels of incredible destructive power.

War continued, with the Earth now becoming a battleground contested by three great races.

Thousands of years passed. Vast territories encompassing entire continents were gained and lost, and then gained again. There were no alliances, no ceasefires, and no respite. The world became scarred and remade under the constant impact of unparalleled techno-cosmic warfare.

And though their enemies were advanced and seemingly without limit, Val'kor's race were themselves relentless, fighting battle after battle and never yielding, even when the odds seemed insurmountable. And eventually, Val'kor himself came to lead them. As tales of his prowess grew, he became a legend among them.

He led them to the end. For inevitably, there was an end. Whatever war could not decimate, climate change and natural disasters did just as well. For all these reasons, and perhaps others, the star-headed ones disappeared for good into the deepest depths of the sea, while the insect race vanished entirely, retreating back to their far flung planets.

After a long violent struggle that had spanned entire millennia, Val'kor and his people were the victors. For unlike their foes, they were made solely for war, solely for survival. And for them, the possibility of defeat was much, much worse than the possibility of death.

Through his eyes, I watched then as another memory unveiled itself.

He stood in the sky, overlooking a setting that was somehow familiar. It was a giant plateau on top of a large mountain, one of the tallest mountains in the midst of an enormous array of rocky peaks.

From above, it looked like the mountain, and the space surrounding it, was filled with thousands of little dark specks. It took me a moment before I realized that those specks were his people. They had all gathered here in one place. Thousands became millions as he looked around and I could see that his people also encompassed the sky. The entire sky.

Suddenly, Val'kor called out a mental command. An ageless silence fell upon the entire area, and he telepathically began to address his brothers and sisters.

 _My brethren._

 _He has come._

 _The city is complete and He has come. The covenant is fulfilled._

 _In His name we have taken this world and now we rest._

 _But one day we will awaken. We will serve once again._

 _Life has begun to multiply on this sphere. And through time, life will flourish._ _He will feed off it. He will feed off its orr'ek. Only time is needed. And when sufficient time has passed, He will rise._

 _Our Lord...our only...You will RISE._

As one, a myriad of alien voices erupted with his name, the name of their god.

Still chanting this name, the assembled beings flew upwards, converging together. There were so many, they looked like a solid mass.

A swirling, circular hole opened up in the plateau, right in its center, a giant black vortex that funneled into solid rock. Whether it was science or sorcery that was behind it, I did not know. But like so many other things he had shown me, it was not natural.

Into this portal they flew, down into the depths of the ancient formation.

And then something struck me.

I realized what was so familiar about this mountaintop, this plateau. Its appearance...it was just too coincidental to not be true.

There was no water surrounding this place. But eons later I knew there would be. An entire ocean would rise and envelop almost all of it, but the mountain itself would somehow remain preserved through geologic time. Perhaps because it wasn't truly a mountain. Perhaps it merely _looked_ like one, when in truth it was a resting place. And one day, when the water came, it would look like an island. An island in the Pacific.

Tesok.

Panic began to arise within me as I connected the dots, as I realized what this meant.

But he wasn't done. No, for then he showed me something else.

After his kin had left, Val'kor took one last look at this world, a world that had been his home for untold millennia. But he looked towards one place in particular, a city in the distance, located across a great prehistoric plain.

I couldn't see the city, but nonetheless I could feel it.

Or rather, I could feel the presence of the thing that now lived in it.

I could hear its terrible voice.

The voice of a living god. A cosmic predator.

Val'kor bowed.

And I screamed.

 **To be continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I opened my eyes and scrambled upwards.

"R'schak ara!" I cried in alarm, my heart pounding. "R'schak kun!"

I looked down at him. He sat there cross-legged as he was before, his tentacled visage returning my stare. Despite my outburst, he looked unconcerned about anything at all.

But I sure as hell was concerned. And for a time, I just stood there, my head cradled in my hands, willing myself to forget that terrible...thing in his memories. I _had_ to forget it, for the sake of my sanity...my very humanity.

I stood there for a few more minutes, slowly breathing in and out. I still wasn't okay, but I had to snap out of it. I had to get it together.

I had to warn the base.

Before Val'kor shared his last memory, I had assumed that the rest of his kind was mostly extinct. After all, it was eons ago when they held power on Earth, and it's not like there'd ever been any reported sightings of them after that.

In other words, I had assumed they were no longer a threat.

But I assumed wrong.

A vast number of them were still alive. Millions. They were down there, within the depths of Tesok itself. I could only imagine it. Rows upon rows of them in suspended animation. An entire undersea mountain engorged with their kind. And though they slept, they still claimed this world.

Val'kor alone could lay waste to an entire battalion. At least. So what on Earth could millions of him do?

Oh God, I had to warn the base. And I had to pray they would believe me.

I shook my head. I had to take it easy. I couldn't give him the idea that I was alarmed in any way. I didn't want to ask more questions and arouse his suspicions. Breathing heavily, I looked to the sky and then at my watch. It was already past 5:00. Time had gone by so quickly. I had maybe 45 minutes before dark. I knew I wouldn't make it back to the main island before nightfall, but I had to go anyway. I had to get the hell out of here.

Trying to look calm, I picked up my camera and stashed it in my backpack, along with my journal and my pictures. I kept wondering about how to get out of this, how to explain to him why I had to leave.

In the end, I decided I would just tell him the truth. It was getting late and I had to get going.

Taking a small breath, I calmed my nerves and once again spoke the ancient language. "Sil qua'sac lac xden. Shtag'c cha ark'non. Fathgn nton gas'ha talgn t'cahmo goha." I just prayed he forgot about the photo I took of him. I needed it to convince everyone I was telling the truth, even though it might not be enough.

In one fluid motion, he stood up. His deep voice boomed. "Emma Hoffman, raen c'ahga morlun."

My jaw dropped and my heart began to race. He basically just told me that I, Emma Hoffman, was "required". Required for what, I did not know.

And I wasn't intent on finding out.

Gulping, I gave him a weak smile, and decided to inform him that it was a pleasure to be needed, but I had to be going. In other words, thanks but no thanks. "Or'sa ba'l igha mal'ci kondra, Val'kor," I replied, nodding towards the island. "B'aha fotun po'an xa'nat."

He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed. I felt a chill go down my spine.

Uneasily, I strapped on my backpack, turned around, and slowly began to walk to my boat. I wanted to run, but I couldn't betray my sense of urgency. Or fear. The hairs on my neck were standing on end as I waited for him to rush up from behind me and do something.

But do what? Stop me? Kill me? I was powerless to prevent him from doing whatever he wanted. I was like a little lamb walking away from a butcher's shop while the butcher just stood there and watched.

After about two minutes of walking, I knew I just had to stop and see if he was following.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly spun around and saw...

Nothing.

He was gone.

I exhaled in relief, turned back around, and continued onwards.

I walked as quickly as I could in the direction of my boat, following the curved shoreline. But I constantly looked back. And skyward.

The return journey seemed to take an eternity, to the point where I began to wonder if I'd somehow missed the spot where I landed on shore.

As I walked, I began to truly realize the extent of Val'kor's telepathic influence. It was mostly in how I perceived the world around me. When I looked at the ground, I didn't think 'ground', I thought _k'yeh_. When I looked at the sea, I didn't think 'sea', I thought _a'lith_. It's like my entire perception of reality was being overwritten by an alien language. And I could only wonder...what the hell did he do to me? And was it ever going to wear off?

But then my difficulties were momentarily forgotten as I spotted a dull aluminium object laying on the ground amid some bushes in the distance.

Yelling out a cry of jubilation, I found a new reservoir of energy and ran the rest of the way. As soon as I got to the boat, I quickly flipped it over and threw my backpack in. I took my shoes and socks off and tossed them in as well. Then I rolled up my pants.

Grasping the stem of the boat, I turned it around 180 degrees so the bow was facing the water. Then I walked backwards, dragging the boat with me. I kept dragging it until the craft was floating in the water, just barely touching the rocky bottom.

For a moment, I just stood and stared at the all-too-distant shoreline of Tongra. And then I stared at the darkening sky above. I wet my finger and held it up in the air. Hope rose in me as I realized the wind was going south. With luck, maybe the waves would do most of the work for me and all I had to do was keep my boat pointed in the right direction! With renewed optimism, I stepped into the shallow water.

But just as I was about to get into the boat, something shot out of the sky.

It hit like a dark bullet, slamming into the center of the craft.

The boat literally exploded, with pieces flying everywhere.

I fell back into the water.

"M'adju," my voice quivered.

It was him.

He stood in the water, staring at me in silence. Tendrils of black energy slowly dissipated from his body.

"Val'kor," I pleaded, standing up and holding my hands out. I had to make him understand. "Ja'akha asda h'ofu sywoj. Arkun!"

He started walking towards me.

Scrambling, I backed up onto the shore trying to get away. But he just kept on coming.

Desperately I looked around for something, anything to fend him off. I saw an oar sitting on the beach that'd come from the boat. "G'oc ocha!" I yelled, wielding it like a baseball bat.

My warning did nothing to stop him. He just kept coming. And so, taking a few steps forward, I swung right at his head. But before I could connect, he caught the oar with one hand and wrenched it free of my grasp.

I could only stand there watching helplessly as he looked at the oar, looked to the sky, and then made a godforsaken booming sound...

...that I innately recognized as laughter.

He then proceeded to take hold of the oar with both hands and snap it cleanly in two.

I'd fully realized by now that my cause was pretty much hopeless. But I just couldn't give up...or give in.

For my next parlor trick, I picked up the biggest rock I could find. I ran up to him and heaved it, once again aiming right for his head.

He casually swatted it away with one hand, as though it was a beach ball.

I shook my head as my lungs gasped for air. "You're just playing with me, aren't you asshole?" I said in deliberate English, letting him worry about the translation. "Fine then, fucker. Come on."

I put up my arms in a fighting stance, though I had no illusions that I could actually harm him. Not to mention that the last time I actually fought someone I was in the seventh grade and my opponent was Debbie Popowich, not some alien super being. But it was better to go out like this than to keep running.

Instead of coming any closer, however, he stood there and chuckled.

And then he spoke words that I will never forget.

"Sil co'z a'cagn."

Ancient wings unfurled and he ascended into the sky, leaving me standing there with a gaping mouth. I watched as he soared away, towards the center of the island. His silhouette got smaller and smaller and soon it disappeared, landing somewhere on top of the plateau.

I turned back to look at the remains of my boat. It was all in pieces. And my backpack was nowhere in sight. Was it gone? Sunk beneath the waves? It was dusk and the water was an impenetrable dark grey. If my backpack was gone, then so was my camera, my journal, and all my food and water. Most of all, so were my pictures. Tears welled up in my eyes. That was the biggest punch in the gut of all. My pictures.

Sighing, I looked once again at the plateau. And then I looked west. The only thing left to do was to stare at the falling sun as it painted a sky of orange and red.

Soon, it got dark entirely. And for the past two hours, I've been sitting here on the beach, listening to the soothing sound of the surf, gazing at Tongra in the distance. It looks beautiful at night. The lights of the base and the fires of the village are sprinkled in parts over the blackness of the jungle.

Speaking of the base, they're probably wondering where I am about now. And Commander Maddox, bless him, has probably ordered them to come look for me at dawn. He's probably cursing himself for letting a "little lady" like me take that boat out in the first place.

He shouldn't be concerned, because I'm doing just fine. A lot better than I felt a couple hours ago. Better than I've felt in years, in fact. It's like all my worries, all my grief over everyone I've lost, has sunk beneath the waves along with my photographs. I don't think I'll be needing them anymore.

Val'kor has been patient with me. My mind is adapting and our telepathic bond has strengthened. From a distance, he's been talking to me for the past while, whispering of days past...and of days to come.

They went to sleep long before we began to evolve as a species. Even as we multiplied across the Earth and our technology advanced, we were beneath their notice. But then we advanced a step too far. Then we dropped those bombs on Japan. They may have ended the war, but it also got their attention. His attention. As their leader, Val'kor was the first to awaken. Soon he'll awaken the others. But first he wants to learn about us, and he needs my help.

 _I have chosen well._

Those were his words to me before he flew off.

I really don't know why he's chosen me, a silly young thing from Seneca, New York. But the feelings I sense from him are a bit like what I sensed earlier, when he remembered being with that other female...so long ago. And I guess that's all that matters.

He's waiting there on that plateau. The _na'ha_ is burning bright. I can see its light in the distance. I'm beginning to feel silly just sitting here by my lonesome. I've decided I'm going to strip myself of these wet clothes and then I'm going to go up there. And after we've talked some more, I imagine we will Join.

But before I go, I look once more to the sea. For there is another voice I can hear again in my mind. At first I feared this voice, but now I can't imagine why. It is calm and comforting. It is helping to make everything so clear. The voice comes from a place further south, about a hundred miles away.

In that place there is a city, located beneath the ocean. This city is for Him. Just as this world is for Him. It is our lives and our inevitable deaths that sustain Him, that allow Him to grow. When it is time, He will emerge. On that day, all who exist will know His presence. And all who can speak will call out His name.

The city is R'lyeh.

His name is Cthulhu.

 **The End**


End file.
